


Prestigious

by falseari



Category: Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe - Benjamin Alire Sáenz
Genre: Canon Compliant, High School, M/M, Post-Canon, Slice of Life, college planning, its just them being cute, theres barely a plot but i tried
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27411400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falseari/pseuds/falseari
Summary: “I’ve told you, Ari. You’re plenty smart. Wherever you get in, I’ll gladly go there with you.”“Dante, I don’t want to be the reason you’re stuck in El Paso your whole life.”
Relationships: Aristotle Mendoza/Dante Quintana
Comments: 2
Kudos: 62





	Prestigious

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

Dante lifts his gaze from the book of poems he’d been reading. Across the room, Ari has cleared the assortment of library books off Dante’s desk to make room for various sheets of notebook paper covered in scribbles only Ari could hope to decipher. Dante’s desk lamp illuminates an open algebra textbook, which Ari is currently banging his head into. With each thud, Dante watches a little more hair come loose from his boyfriend’s disheveled ponytail. 

Dante sets his book aside and climbs off his bed. He sticks his hand out and catches Ari’s forehead before he can slam it into his homework again. 

“You know, I fail to see how bruising your frontal lobe is going to make -” Dante lifts Ari’s forehead up higher to glance at the textbook, “- polynomial equations any easier.” 

Ari groans and drops his face down anyway, pinning Dante’s hand to the worn pages. 

The window behind the desk is open, letting the night breeze into the room. Dante had been so absorbed in his reading, he hadn’t even noticed the sun go down. 

“Hey,” he says. Ari lifts his head to look at him when he doesn’t immediately continue. His eyebrows are sort of pushed together, like they get when he’s frustrated. Dante plants a kiss between them, just because he can. “Why don’t you take a break? You’ve been working at this for hours.” 

Ari's face softens a bit at the display of affection, but the tension returns in a matter of seconds. With both hands, he pushes back all the strands of hair that have fallen in his face. Dante notices his jaw clench when they fall right back down. 

Delicately, Dante takes out the hair tie entirely and combs Ari’s hair back with his fingers, pulling it back into place. 

The room is silent as Dante regathers all the loose pieces and smooths the bumps as best he can without a brush. When a fraction of the tension in Ari’s shoulders finally fades, he replaces the black hair tie. 

“Talk to me?” he asks, scooting some papers aside so he can perch on top of the desk. 

“Sorry,” Ari mumbles earnestly. He’s been working so hard on being more forthcoming since that night in the desert. It hasn’t gone unnoticed. 

Dante places a hand over Ari’s, relaxing the death grip he has on a pencil. “Don’t be,” he reassures. He rubs Ari’s palm with his thumb, giving him space to continue. 

“I’m a bit old to be having temper tantrums over math class, aren’t I?” he says, laughing humorlessly. 

“I’m sorry, have you met my little brother? It’s frankly an insult to him for you to insinuate that this counts as a tantrum.” 

That gets a real laugh. Dante grins. 

“Besides,” he continues, “we’re not too old. We still have all of college after this. If you think I won’t be reduced to tears the first time I have to let a whole class of assholes critique my art at 8 AM, you’re sorely mistaken.” 

Ari rolls his eyes. “Like anyone would have anything bad to say about your art,” he challenges. 

Dante swoons dramatically. “If only everyone could see me through your rose-colored glasses, babe,” he teases. Ari swats at his knee for the pet name, but Dante cuts him off with a kiss before he can start to argue. 

Kissing from his position on top of the desk is a bit uncomfortable, so Dante pushes himself down to straddle Ari’s lap instead. The cheap swivel chair creaks under their combined weight. Ari laughs and pulls him closer so he doesn’t fall off. 

A few blissful moments later, Ari pulls away. His cheeks are all flushed, and the hair Dante just fixed has started to come loose again from where Dante was running his hands through it. “You -” Ari starts, interrupting himself to place one more kiss to Dante’s lips - “make it very hard to focus.” 

“Fine,” Dante laments, climbing off his boyfriend. “Go back to bashing your skull into some polynomials. That was clearly more productive.” 

They both dissolve into laughter as Ari flips him off. 

“How about I help?” Dante offers, taking his seat on the edge of the desk again. “I got an A when I took algebra.” 

“Of course you did. In what, the 9th grade?” 

“8th.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Ari sighs. He looks at Dante with awe in his eyes. “How did I, of all people, end up with the smartest guy in El Paso?” 

Dante shakes his head, but a smile creeps onto his face anyway. “Hyperbole,” he dismisses. 

“See, I don’t even know what the hell you just said,” Ari deadpans. 

“Hyperbole. It’s an exaggeration used to emphasize something and create a strong impression,” Dante explains, spitting out the definition on reflex more than intention. 

“My walking dictionary,” Ari mutters fondly. He glances towards the pages of scrawled practice problems. Dante notices one of them has been crumpled up and tossed to the side in frustration. “It’ll be a miracle if I even get into one of your safety schools.” His tone is light, but Dante catches the way his smile falters. 

“I’ve told you, Ari. You’re plenty smart. Wherever you get in, I’ll gladly go there with you.” 

Ari has not once taken him up on this offer. 

He doesn’t take it this time either. “Dante, I don’t want to be the reason you’re stuck in El Paso your whole life.” 

“Who says I don’t like El Paso?” Dante replies, unable to keep himself from rising to the challenge of a debate. “Maybe I wanted to go to college here anyway.” 

Usually the debate ends here. Ari shrugs his shoulders and sulks, or asks Dante to change the subject. Dante’s a bit taken aback when he says, softly, “Don’t bullshit me, Dante. You used to talk about going out of state all the time. Berkeley, NYU, that art school in Chicago. And those are exactly the kind of places you should go.” He's pretending to read his textbook, but his eyes aren't actually moving. “Even if that means I can’t follow you,” he finishes, without looking up. 

“Ari, that was before,” Dante says incredulously. “You actually think I’d miss out on four years of college with you just for some California weather?” 

Ari shoots him one of his patented glares. “Even I’m not dumb enough to believe you were choosing Berkeley for the weather.” 

“Fine then, the prestige?” Dante asks, gaining momentum. “You know what I’ve realized, Ari? Prestige is a scam. What, does Berkeley have some new calculus that the pitiful state schools don’t have access to? NYU’s going to teach me some forbidden painting techniques that no one in community college is allowed to know about? All that extra tuition for a different seal printed on the piece of paper they mail you at the end of it all.” 

“Dante-” 

“And I know, Ari, I know they tell you they have better professors, and better programs, and better student communities, but you know what? It’s all bullshit! College is what you make of it, and it will be what you make of it no matter where you go, because at the end of the day, you’re learning the same curriculum, and you’re getting the same piece of paper, and you’re getting thrown into the same job market.” 

Dante takes a breath before moving into his closing statement. “So tell me, Ari. Tell me one reason why I should bother with long distance when I could get exactly the college experience I want by staying here with you.” 

Ari’s silent for a moment. Dante watches the rise and fall of his chest. 

He’s smirking when he finally speaks. “You’re saying community college is an option? Why the fuck am I still trying for an A in math, then?” 

Dante laughs with exasperation. “Because,” Dante stretches out the word, leaning close and dropping his voice like he has a secret. “If we go to a state school then we get to have a whole dorm room to ourselves.” 

Ari purses his lips in thought. “You drive a hard bargain, Quintana.” 

“I know,” he beams, with the pride of having won another argument. 

Ari pulls him in for a kiss, but Dante puts a hand to his chest. “It’s already 9:00. If we’re going to go over this entire chapter before your test tomorrow, we better get started.” 

Dante giggles as Ari kisses him anyway before reluctantly picking up his pencil.


End file.
